


Ты нужен мне

by littlenerdyguywithwings (sarisel)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Arguments, Established Relationship, Fights, M/M, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarisel/pseuds/littlenerdyguywithwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A comment made on Twitter hints at a deeper issue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ты нужен мне

**Author's Note:**

> The title is in Russian, but don't worry--the story is in English. The Russian characters equivalent in English is 'Ty nuzhen mne,' roughly pronounced tye nooz-hen mnyeh. If you look up the meaning, you'll spoil yourself.

 

Jensen blinked awake to the sound of his trailer door opening, his twenty minute catnap suddenly cut short. He'd hung a 'do not disturb' sign outside, he'd made sure of it. That meant just one thing: Misha. He stood at the trailer's far end, his crossed arms half-hiding the Russian scrawled messily across his blue shirt. When Jensen had asked him what the shirt had said, Misha had muttered 'fuck off' without even glancing his way. He wouldn't put it past Misha to wear that kind of thing, but from the daggers being shot at him now, Jensen doubted _translation_ had been on Misha's mind at the time.

Jensen rubbed at his eyes. "What?"

"Is it me or is Misha Collins a lot like real life hemorrhoids?" Misha shook the phone clutched in his hand, his voice rising. _"Too far?"_

"Oh for--you're mad about _that?_ You got after me for the hashtag, for Christ's sake!"

"I was trying not to blow up at you!"

"You're the one who wanted me on Twitter," Jensen reminded, spreading his hands.

"So people could see how funny you are! Not so you could--"

_"That_ isn't what you said. You said--"

Misha's voice softened. "I know what I said."

Jensen's words dried up in his mouth. He swung his legs off the couch, leaving room for Misha to sit. He didn't pat the pillows, didn't call him over, but he didn't tell him to keep hovering in the doorway either. Misha--always having to be completely Misha, god damn it--sat down on the coffee table opposite the couch instead. He stared at his hands for a moment, running his thumb over the buttons of his phone, before finally looking up.

Why did Misha always have to stare like that? Jensen licked his lips, and wiped his palms on his jeans. At least the bastard hadn't smile this time. If anything, he looked--Jensen's stomach sank.

"I'm sorry," Jensen managed.

Misha shrugged. "I get it. If you and Jared pal around in public, it's not a big deal. You can even say 'I love you, man' a half dozen times and it's nothing."

"But if you and I wear semi-similar rings..."

Misha laughed under his breath. "They weren't _semi-similar..."_

"Yeah."

Misha looked down at his phone again. He sighed, considering, and then his fingers flew over the keys, tapping away.

Jensen's brows rose. "What are you doing?"

"Unfollowing you on Twitter. Jared too. Let the fangirls really wonder. Think I'm having a diva moment."

"Mish--"

Misha stood. "I knew the rules, Jen. I'm sorry I pushed."

It was Jensen's turn to stare. He held Misha's gaze as long as he could, his hand on Misha's wrist. It was Misha that closed the gap between them, bending down to brush his mouth over Jensen's: softness combined with the rasp of stubble, and the subtle sweetness of that weirdo tea Misha was always drinking. Jensen jerked him closer before he could pull away, making it a real kiss, teeth clinking teeth and the glide of his tongue over Misha's.

"Hey," Jensen murmured against Misha's throat. "What does you shirt really say?"

Misha broke away laughing. "Curious? I had it made myself."

"C'mon--"

Misha straightened up again. "Just give me your phone."

Jensen reached into his back jean pocket, only to find his phone wedged between the couch cushions as always. He handed it over to Misha, trying not to be suspicious at his lover's rapid typing--and his even more rapid retreat for the trailer door.

"See you!" Misha called out brightly, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jensen peered down at his phone's screen. Google's translation function had been all set up for him, with the Russian from Misha's shirt entered on the left side. All Jensen had to do was press a little blue button and the English would appear on the right. He did.

'I need you' appeared in the right hand box.

Jensen smiled, just a little.

He slid his phone back into his jean pocket, smoothed his rumpled shirt, and got ready for work.


End file.
